„The Cycle of Return“

I was not born once.
I unfold.
From something
that has no beginning.
The stars do not remember me.
They are me.
Their rhythm lives beneath my skin.
My breath is older than my name.

The Earth turns.
Not just to spin,
but to listen.
The sea listens.
To the moon’s quiet longing.
To the deep pull of memory
that isn’t memory at all,
just movement.

When this body ends,
I remain.
Not as a thought,
not as a ghost,
as presence.
As frequency without form.

And in that space
there is only
one feeling:
Love.
Not love as we speak it,
but the source
from which all words break open.

And when it calls again,
I return. Into form.Into time.
Into the warmth of breath and light and hunger.

I walk again
because the song
asks me to sing.
So I sing. With my eyes, my silence,
my joy.
And I know:
I am not this moment,
but I am here to live it fully.

I belong to the cycle.
And the cycle
belongs to no one.
It simply is.

Love B.B.